Chosen Not To Fade Away
by gothfeary
Summary: What do you do now that you have forever? A series of one shot stories about the lives of the Scoobies. Multi crossovers! Ratings vary.
1. Prologue

**Author:** gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)  
**Title:** Alpha and Omega  
**Series:** Chosen not to Fade Away  
**Rating:** K. Absoloutly no naughty stuff at all!  
**Summery:** What do you do now that you have forever? 242 words.  
**Spoilers:** All of Buffy and all of Angel, but only if you squint.  
**Disclaimer**: I own neither Buffy or Angel, I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes.  
**A/N**: Yet again, my muse attacks me. I seem to have a very violent muse...wonder if I still have the recipte? _-Hey! Quit that! OWW!!! That's my arm you just bit Cleo(yes, my muse is named Cleo. If you read the Xanth series, this is actually uite funny)!!! OK, OK!!! I take it back!-_ Yep. violent muse.

- - - - -

She was the Alpha. She was the Omega.

As long as the Slayer line existed, so would she. The oldest of the true Chosen, the mother of the new line. Because she was bound to the line now, through the spell that had awoken ever Potential on the Earth. She would see the end of forever.

Buffy Summers was Eternal. Goddess of the Slayers. And, she would never live alone. For she, like any true Goddess, had her pantheon.

Once, long, long ago, in the days of the One, they had tied themselves to her, to the essence that was the Slayer. Becoming one with her, and with the line. Becoming tied to Manus: the Hand, the Vessel, the Slayer.

Xander was Animus, her Heart.

Giles was Sophus, the Mind.

Willow became Spiritus, the Spirit.

Dawn, she was the Blood, made of Buffy.

Blood. It was always about the blood. Spike knew it, she knew it. That's why she gave him her blood when she gave him her body, and her love that last night together in Sunnydale. To give him strength. She had given him the strength to live through the Hell Mouths' destruction. She had given both him, and Angel, the strength to rise up from the ash when a dragon's flames had claimed them.

Now they would walk beside her. As long as the Slayer line thrived, they would walk the Earth. Never ageing. Never dying. Together.

_**-End-**_

**_A/N 2:_ Reviews, as always, are love!**


	2. Weaving

**Series**: Chosen not to Fade Away. (2 of ?)  
**Title:** Weaving  
**Rating**: K  
**Summery**: One of the new Slayers has a problem. How do you beat genetics?  
**Spoilers**: None.  
**Word count**: 700  
**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Joss is God, and I am but a lowly worshipper.Stan Lee owns Marvel and all related things…except the Wolverine/Rogue shipping! That belongs to thousands of fan girls.  
**A/N:** My muse and I have come to an agreement; I write and she dosen't bite me. Although there was no real agreeing on her part... more like glaring and threatening.

- - - - -

_Mutants. Since the discovery of their existence, they have been regarded with fear, suspicion, and often hatred. Across the planet, debate rages: are mutants the next link in the evolutionary chain...or simply a new species of humanity, fighting for their share of the world?_

_In every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer._

_"I say my power should be your power." -Buffy Summers_

- - - - -

"Can you feel it?" asked the petite blond, "The power humming under your skin, just begging for a release?"

"Yes," gasped brunette seated on the lush red carpet before her, "it's there, just below the crackle of my skin."

"Take them both, imagine them as threads: one in each hand." Buffy guided her through the meditation that she, Willow and Xavier had prepared for just this slayer

"I have them," her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Tell me, how do they feel?"

"One, it feels like I'm holding spun silver. It's cold and hard. It is relentless, nothing can stand up to it." grasping at what felt like wiggling silk to her mind, she held on. "It's struggling against my grip. It does not want to be contained like this."

"The Slayer." Stated a voice from somewhere above her.

"Yes." her two-toned head bobbing up and down slightly.

"And the other?"

"It burns." she whispered, her voice quaking slightly in fear over the power she grasped, "It's so hungry… like holding the essence of fire, my mutation."

"Good, good." Buffy softly reassured the other girl as best she could. "Now, do you know how rope is made?" she asked, bending down to whisper into her ear.

"Yes," she recalled hours and hours spent with her mother before all this began; carding wool, spinning thread, finally weaving beautiful designs into delicate fabrics.

"How?"

"From fibers to threads, to string" she chanted the words her momma had taught her with ease. "From string to rope. Weak alone, stronger together…" with a visible start that almost cost her the mental grips on the powers inside her, she realized what she needed to do.

"Do it." Ordered the Senior Slayer.

Setting her jaw, the younger Slayer set to work spinning her powers together; until one was so interwoven to the other nothing would separate them. Beads of sweat broke out over her body as she sat perfectly still. The moments slowed for those around her, until ever second was an eternity onto itself.

Finally, a look of pure bliss spread across her face. With that, she fell forward, limp, her body spent.

Opening her tired chocolate eyes, she looked her up into the eyes of her saviour, with the eyes of a eager child.

"Do you control the Slayer?" She asked.

"Yes." she gasped in awe, tears falling freely.

"Show me." Buffy ordered.

Her newest student rose from the floor of Professor Xavier's office where she had sat lotus style. Pulling off her forest green opera gloves, she turned to a tall feral man behind her who had stood watching her with hope in his eyes. Grinning, she pulled an ivory fist back. With a sickening crunch and a dull metal 'thud', she broke his nose in a splatter of blood and a string of curses on his part.

The Wolverine looked at her, stunned, his face healing as the room looked on. Cautiously reaching her bare hand up, she began to wipe the blood away.

The room had stilled.

Nothing but silence was heard as she wiped the last crimson droplet from his face.

"Congratulations," came the deep fatherly voice of Charles as he broke the deafening silence.

"You're a true Slayer now Rogue." Buffy smirked. "What are you going to do now?"

With a squeal, Marie the Vampire Slayer lept at Logan, and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist before pulling him into a passionate kiss. One which he eagerly returned, after the shock wore off.

"Well," said Willow, as yet another silence had enveloped the room, "I'm guessing she's gonna make up for lost time."

Jean and Orore giggled as they watched Logan carry Marie off to his _-their-,_ room.

**_-End-_**

**A/N 2**: For those of you who have not reviewed know this: I have a violent muse. I will sick her on you. After all, my muse has to be scary to come up with 'Floppy' from my Stargate fics...


	3. Same Crap, Diffrent Galaxy

**Author:** gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)  
**Title**: Same crap, Diffrent galaxy  
**Series**: Chosen not to Fade Away (3 of?)  
**Rating**: T. Because of violence and naughty language.  
**Summery**: New assignments, old assignments... it's the same thing for champions.  
**Spoilers**: None.  
**Disclaimer:** I own neither Buffy or Stargate Atlantis, I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes.  
**A/N**: Uh-oh... Floppy and Cleo have teamed up. I have to run away and finish the Star Trek: TNG ficlet that they just told me to write! _-runs away in fear-  
_1540 words

- - - - -

"Col. Sheppard," Whispered Teyla, as the team neared the edge of the woods they had surveyed, "I'm certain the Wraith just came through the gate." John signalled the five others to stop.

"Shit. I'm reading at least 10 Wraith life-signs surrounding the gate." Said Col. John Sheppard, after checking the Ancient hand held scanning device he had carried with him.

"Fuck," cursed Rodney McKay under his breath, "we'll have to wait them out in here until Atlantis dials in for a report and have them send through reinforcements."

Col. Sheppard, two-year veteran of the Atlantis Expedition, never regretted having to train new personnel more. He looked back over his shoulder at the two newest British personnel; Dr. Rupert Giles, linguist and the bleach-blond Lt. William Aurelius_. Just how was that hair within regs any way_? John wondered.

"Sounds like we found ourselves a spot of violence, eh Watcher?" Lt. Aurelius remarked to his country man, his voice full of what sounded like gleeful anticipation.

The four members of SGA-1 turned to look at the two, startled by the comment, only to be further surprised by the rest of the conversation.

"Indeed it does Spike." With a reluctant sigh, Dr. Giles took off his thin wire rimmed glasses, and slipped them into a hard case he pulled from the pocket of his fatigues. "I had hoped for a quiet, uneventful first mission. But, it seems that once again, that is not the case."

"Never is, mate." Quipped the Lieutenant. "It's our lot in life; you should know that by now."

Oblivious to the rest of the team, the two men began what could only be called 'preparing'. They removed their jackets and protective vests, seeking the freedom to move their bodies without restriction, only to reveal the most bizarre weaponry ever carried through the gate. Strapped to Giles' hips were two long handled battle axes, while the younger man had unsheathed a long katana that he had strapped to his back. Discarding their standard issued armaments; they took up ready fighters stances, carrying the weapons as though they were extensions of their bodies.

"Shall we then?" asked Giles.

"Never though I'd find myself half way across the bleeding universe fighting space vampires." Spike remarked dryly, "Peaches would love it."

"I'm sure Angel would find this quite ironic, given his opinion on the 'astronauts verses cavemen' debate." Mused Giles.

_That's it,_ thought Col Sheppard_. I'm fed up with this_. Trying to take control of the escalating situation before the two of them alerted the Wraith to their location, he walked up to them. "What the hell are you two doing?" his hissed demand dripping with annoyance.

"We are doing our jobs, Col. Sheppard." Giles told his as though it was obvious. "After all this is done, I suggest you go speak to Dr. Weir. She would have spoken to you sooner, but no one expected to encounter the Wraith on a deserted planet. You'll find that in situations such as these, Spike and I have full authority."

"So that means when I say 'get your arse outta the way or I'll make you into a Happy Meal' you had best listen." Spike growled at him, his eyes flashing gold.

_Wait. Growled? Hold it. Flashed? He couldn't be a Goa'uld,_ thought John frantically_. All personnel were examined before coming to Atlantis, and then again when they arrived. But, if he wasn't a Goa'uld, then what was he?_ John was very worried now, and so was McKay, who was thinking the very same thoughts.

John and Rodney were too wrapped up in similar thoughts to realise the two men had left their party behind and were slipping out from the forest out into the clearing. It was with a vicious battle cry that Spike and Giles alerted the Wraith to their presence, and threw themselves into a group of heavily armed Wraith. Their shouts, and the clang of metal on body armour brought SGA-1 racing out to save the apparently suicidal recruits.

What they saw, they could never forget.

The first thing Ronon and Teyla noticed was that something had happened to Lt. Aurelius, or Spikes' face. His eyes were the same fierce gold they were before, slit like a cats, and his face distorted to be nearly unrecognisable. Fangs bared, he was snarling and growling like a feral wolf as he fought off four Wraiths with sword, fist and fang. They watched with a morbid fascination as he plunged his katan hilt deep into the crest of one of his attackers. Rather than bother to try and remove it from the now lifeless body he spun around and, before his first victim had even hit the ground, he _tore_ into the neck of another.

Dr. Rupert Giles, a man Rodney would have had to guess was in his mid-fifties, moved with a speed and strength that rivalled the Wraith. Equally matched in strength, he ruthlessly attacked with a skill no one could match. It was as if he had been born with a weapon in his hand in the middle of a battle field. Bending backwards impossibly low, John watched as he swung one axe around, slicing a drone Wraith cleanly in half. Then the leader, who had managed to get to one of the fallen stunners up, aimed at Giles when he turned his back to deal with another. Before anyone could shout a warning, the enemy fired.

But, rather than dropping to the ground, his nervous system over-loaded, he swore violently as turned to face his attacker. Crouching low into a fighter's ready stance, he dropped both axes, and grinning like a mad man, he let escape an almost sadistic laugh.

Beckoning his opponent forward with his hands he taunted, "Come get me, if you think you can." Furious, the Wraith charged recklessly with a snarl. Stepping quickly to the side at the last second, and as the Wraith passed him, he reached out and caught it by the neck. With a quick twist of his hands, he broke its neck.

"Watcher!" hollered the blond, "throw me the sodding axe or get your bloody arse over here!" The reaming Wraith, armed with stunners again, had decided to attack him as one. Stooping down, Giles scooped up an axe and hurled it right into Spikes' waiting hand. Grabbing the other for himself, the older man raced over. Raising his voice above the sounds of the fight he shouted out to his companion.

"Never thought William the Bloody," Giles countered a punch aimed at his ribs. "Slayer of Slayers," using his axe, he sliced the punching hand right off. "Master of the Aurelius line and fourth in the Scourge of Europe," he beheaded his opponent, "would need the help of an ordinary Watcher to deal with Vampires that are little more than fledglings."

Spike morphed back to his human face before shouting back, "Compliments will get you no where Ripper. And remember, Space Vampires." He quickly dodged the pointed end of the stunner that one Wraith had attempted to stab his chest with. "Hey! Watch the heart!" he cried out as he knocked the weapon away. Looking over his shoulder at Giles who had just buried his axe into the forehead of the second last Wraith, he called out, "Besides, you're no more an ordinary Watcher than our girl Buffy is an ordinary Slayer."

Closing in on the last remaining Wraith, he dropped his axe and leapt right at it. Wrapping his long, slender finger around its neck, he snapped it with a sickening snap that echoed around the now silent clearing.

"Buffy has never been just any Slayer." Giles said with a touch of nostalgia for the times gone by.

They continued their banter: bickering and joking like old friends playing chess, rather than warriors who had just slaughtered the enemy. They collected their weapons and began checking over the dead, searching for the things Atlantis would want them to bring back. Glancing up at the Gate, Giles remembered the rest of the team, who had yet to come out of their silent shock.

"Oi!" yelled Spike, snapping the team back to reality. "You lot care to give us a hand?" He and Giles, covered in Wraith blood and gore, were standing before them expectantly.

"Dr. Giles, Lt. Aurelius!" John Sheppard barked, "just what the hell was that?"

Spike smirked, the man before him reminded him of the Whelp. Running a blood covered hand through his hair he replied, "That, boys and girls," his now icy blue eyes danced with suppressed laughter, "was destiny in motion."

Seeing the disbelief in his comrade's eyes, Giles stepped forward. "Perhaps we should explain." Gesturing to an area of the clearing free from blood and bodies, "It would be best to have a seat. You may not believe what we are about to tell you."

Walking over to the carnage-free grass, the six explorers took their seats.

"Contrary to popular belief," as Giles began his often used speech, Spike rolled his eyes, "the world did not begin as a paradise..."

Having heard this story hundreds of times since Sunnydale, Spike fell into his own thoughts. And all he could think was: same crap, different galaxy.

_**-End-**_

**A/N 2:** Click the nifty little button, you all know the drill by now.


	4. Just The Muscle

**Author:** gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)  
**Title**: Just the Muscle (3 of?)  
**Series:** Chosen not to Fade Away  
**Rating:** K.  
**Summery:** It seemed she was only good at blowing things up, and beating up bad guys..  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Disclaimer**: I own neither Buffy or Star Trek: TNG, I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes.  
**A/N:** There! Now maybe I can get som sleep tonight!  
237 words 

- - - - -

Buffy stood tall, well as tall as her 5'5 frame would allow. She carefully pinned the rank insignia on the collar of her black and yellow uniform.

"After all this time, I'm still just the muscle." she grumbled. With a final glance over her shoulder at the mirror, she left her quarters.

Left, left, a right, and then take the turbo lift all the way up; this new ship was sill so foreign to her. Stepping into the lift, with a calm and sure voice that betrayed none of her fear, from her lips slipped the name of her destination, "Bridge"

Seconds later, she stepped out into her new life.

"Lieutenant Commander Summers, the security station is just behind the first officer's chair." There was a faint, almost non-existent accent to her new Captain's voice, "Oh, and welcome to the U.S.S. Enterprise." Jean-Luc Picard smiled warmly at her. He reminded her so much of Xavier, she found herself immediately willing to stand by him.

"Permission to speak freely sir?" Her green eyes twinkling with a child like excitement. _If only Giles could see me now_, she mused. But he was off studying Slayers on Vulcan.

"Permission granted."

"This is a hell of a lot bigger than the last Enterprise I was on!"

The stunned looks followed her as she almost literally skipped the whole way to her station.

_Well,_ Jean-Luc thought to himself, _this should be interesting._

**_-END-_**


	5. Conversations

**Author**: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)  
**Title**: Conversations over drinks and Immortality.  
**Series**: Chosen not to Fade Away (5 of ?)  
**Rating:** K. No naughty buissness here!  
**Summery:** Never challenge the Irish to a drinking contest.  
**Spoilers:** Buffy season 7. Highlander spoilers for… I don't know what season; I think its season 5.  
**Disclaimer:** I own neither Buffy nor Highlander; I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes.  
**A/N**: Reviews are love people.  
572 words.

- - - - -

Angel sat at the table in the small New York demon bar with a shot glass in one hand, and a bottle of Irish whiskey in the other. He looked over at his drinking companions and smirked, "I'm over two hundred and fifty years old."

"Four hundred." Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod retorted.

Angel took a shot.

"I've died over a dozen times since Sunnydale."

"I died twice this week."

Another shot for Angel. Ok, he thought, drinking contests with an unknown Immortal, not his smartest plan.

"I tried to kill the woman I loved because I lost my soul." That should win me this round, the brooding man hoped.

"I did kill my best friend, because the Devil was toying with my mind." Despite the fact the Duncan won that round, he took a shot anyway, hoping to drown out the painful memory or Ritchie's death.

Angel sat and though for a moment on why he was losing. Then it hit him; he was on the offence. making strikes that Duncan could obviously block. The best offence was a good defence, after all.

"Fine. You go then." Angel pushed the bottle of scotch into Duncan's hand.

"Alright then," he said with a grin.

"I have known three Slayers."

"I dated the mother of the new Slayer line. I know them all." Score one for Angel. He grinned as he watched Duncan down his shot.

"I helped trap the Master in Sunnydale."

"I helped grind his bones to dust." The empty glass hit the table with a clunk as Duncan set it down again.

Duncan didn't want to sit her all night until one, or both of them died from alcohol poisoning. Because, that was just no fun in the morning.

"Alright, if you can't beat this next one, you drink the whole bottle in one go." Angel looked at his near full bottle, then at Duncan's. They were about the same level. Angel, not wanting to lose to a Scotsman, replied calmly, "If it do, you drink yours."

Duncan knew he couldn't lose with this one, so grinning from ear to ear in a manner very similar to Spike when ever he and Buffy saw Angel (_cookie dough not ready my ass!_ He thought), Duncan held out his hand the vampire. "Deal." Dropping Angel's room-temperature hand, he sat back.

"I lived through an attack by the Scourge of Europe." Duncan thought back to his time in China when the Boxer Rebellion broke out and the four vampires had taken advantage of the chaos, and slaughtered almost an entire village.

With a self-satisfied smirk, he gestured to Angel's bottle an asked, "well?"

Angel looked him strait in the eyes.

"I was the head of the Scourge of Europe." He said casually.

Duncan sat bolt upright, nearly falling off his chair. "What!?!" he gasped.

"Sired by Darla, Sire to Drusilla the Mad and William the Bloody," he told the other man with ease. "The name I use when I have no soul is Angelus."

"You're Angelus!" Duncan exclaimed.

"Yep."

"Well, I think you win." Turning to his bottle, Duncan let out a resigned sigh. This was going to burn like hell, he thought to himself before taking a deep breath and raising the bottle to his lips.

As Angel watched Duncan empty the bottle, he couldn't help but laugh as he said, "And you thought Scots could beat the Irish at drinking!"

**_-End-_**


	6. Promised or Chosen, we all make mistakes

Author: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)  
Title: Promised or Chosen, we all make mistakes  
Series: Chosen not to Fade Away  
Rating: T. Because of violence and naughty language.  
Summery: Faith found out why you should listen to your elders. Especially if your grandfather was Ash, The Promised One.  
Spoilers: None.  
Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy or Evil Dead, I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes. But I do own my shirt that says "Bad Ash", my personalized autographed copies of "If Chins Could Kill" and "Make Love the Burce Campbell Way". *Sticks out toung at her readers* Haha! I met Bruce!  
A/N: Reviews are love people.

- - - - -

"Oh shit." Faith looked down at the alter before her. Three books, all bound in human flesh, all inked in human blood. Three copies of the Necronomicon and she could only take one.

The clouds darkened, and the lightening lit up the sky before her.

"Come on Faith!" screamed Angel from behind her. The woods had come alive and seemed hell-bent on killing them. And moving tree branches, while no longer lethal, could still dust him. It would take hours for the Earth to gather the energies to bring him back to his un-life again, hours they didn't have.

"You try picking a freaking book based on half remembered stories your grandpa told you!" Faith wished she had listened to Grandpa Ash when she was a kid.

Time to take a chance.

Well, it wasn't the first one. That one tried to bite her hand off.

"Fucking book! See, this is why I dropped out of high school!" She screamed back at Angel.

"I don't care about what happened a hundred years ago! Just move!" Apparently, swords did not work well against tree limbs.

Second book, well it definitely wasn't that one. Faith climbed her way out of the vortex that had tried to swallow her.

"I think I just found a shortcut into Pylea!"

"Fuck Pylea!" The words were slightly distorted by his now present vampire features.

As she reached for the third book she stopped, the memory of Ash's words ringing in her ears. "I had to say these three stupid mystic words, or all hell would have broken loose…"

Raising her voice above the howling winds, she spoke out loud. "Clatto verata…" Oh, shit. She thought.

"Neck tie? Nickel? Oh fuck, I _know_ it was an N word!"

Looking around, hoping no one would notice, she raised her eyes up to the sky. Dramatically, she shouted, "Clatto Verata Ne-" coughing into her hand, she turned her last word into an unintelligible sound. "Ok," she called out, "I said the words. I'm gonna take the book now." Hoping and praying this would work, she reached tentatively for the last book. The book she held in her hands, it radiated pure evil.

For just a moment, everything went quiet and she thought they were safe. Running back to Angel, she grinned.

"Everything ok?" he asked, wiping blood from his face.

"Five by five" she smirked.

Suddenly, the earth shook.

Regaining his balance, Angel looked her in the eyes, and guessed what happened. "You know Buffy is gonna kill you for this, right?"

"Hey! She started apocalypses too! This is my first!" She cried as lightning struck the ground next to them.  
As skeleton hands shot up from Angel grabbed her arm and screamed, "Shut up and run!"

_**-End-**_


	7. Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid

Author: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)  
Title: Be afraid. Be very afraid.  
Series: Chosen not to Fade Away  
Rating: T. Because of violence and naughty language.  
Summery: In which we find out just how scary Willow, Buffy and Spike are.  
Spoilers: None.  
Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy or Star Trek, I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes.  
A/N: Someone sent a plot bunny after me. The question of what would happen in Q ever ran into Willow and Buffy was asked, and that got me thinking, and you all can see the results! Reviews are love people  
2535 Words

"Lieutenant Summers," called out Commander Riker from across the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise.

"Yes Sir?" Buffy immediately looked up from her console at tactical, wondering what her new commander wanted.

"It appears there are two extra passengers on the transport."

"Are they security risks, sir?" she asked confused. The transport was supposed to only be some new crew members and a few visitors.

"No, Summers" he chuckled at the calculating look on her face. He knew from experience that his first impression of her; that she was weak and flighty, a stereo-typical 'dumb blond', was simply a deceptive cover. She was a warrior as much as Lt. Worf. As much as Tasha had been.

"I believe you know these people." Looking down at the pad in his hand, he double checked their names. "A miss Willow Rosenberg and your husband, 'Spike' Summers."

Forgetting for a moment she was almost four hundred years old, Buffy let out a school-girl squeal of delight. "Permission to greet them sir?" She asked, positively bouncing up and down in anticipation.

"Granted."

"Sweet!" With that she took off at a dead run for the turbo lift, all illusions of professionalism forgotten.  
As the doors closed, Chief Engineer Jordi LaForge looked over at his commander.

"What kind of a name is 'Spike'?" he asked, not at all disturbed by Buffy's behaviour. In the six months she had been stationed here, the whole bridge crew had become accustomed to her odd reactions and behaviours.

"No idea Jordi, but if he's married to Buffy, he must be interesting."

Buffy stood fidgeting, as she eagerly waited her husband and best friend in transporter room 3. The soft hum of the equipment, that only a slayer or vampire could hear, let her know they were just seconds away. A soft blue glow from the pad dazzled her for a second and as it dissipated, she took in their presence.

For a second or two.

Again, forgetting her professionalism, she let out a second squeal and leapt at Spike. The bleach blond caught her with ease as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and kissed him furiously. The technician watched, stunned as Spike let out a small growl and tangled his fingers in her hair.

A soft cough brought them out of the private little world the couple had gone into. "Um, guys?" asked Willow tentatively, "not the time or place."

"Right then, Red." Spike let go of Buffy's golden blond hair, and she unwrapped herself from him, blushing furiously.

"Now get your butt over here miss 'I'm too in love to hug my best friend'!" demanded Willow with mock irritation.  
Buffy let out a laugh that sounded like music, as she moved over to embrace the young red-head. Crying with happiness, the two woman were unaware how long they just stood holding each other.

"Sir," came the timid voice of the transport officer, "I need to beam the next group over."

"Sorry Ensign." She guided Willow and Spike off the pad, "Please continue." She then led them out into the hall way, and headed in the direction of her quarters.

"Look at my girl, all in charge of the little ensigns." Spike took her hand and pulled her close, "I could have turned you, and you would have had an army of minions, but no! Had to be the champion!" He looked over at Willow, his ice-blue eyes dancing. "We three could have owned the world, eh Red?"

"Oh yes, and there would have been all kinds of fun with the maiming and killing." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"And the people in chains!" Added Willow as her roots got a shade or two darker at the idea, "and we could ride them like ponies." She said wistfully.

"You just had to go visit the alternate reality with Vamp Willow in it, didn't you?" Buffy gently smacked the back of her head to knock the darkness out of her friend.

"Ow!" Whined her best friend, pouting as her two companions began laughing.

"I'll make it up to you." Buffy said as they reached the turbo lift. "I'll see if I can get Jean-Luc to let me give you a tour."

"Really?" Willow asked, her green eyes lighting up.

"Really." Buffy patted her arm. "Oh, did I tell you that he is related to Xavier?" she asked as the doors slid closed with a soft 'whoosh'.

One hour later.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard stood with the two strangers as Buffy explained the various stations to her family. He and Buffy had become quite close in the time since his briefing on her special 'status'. Only he and Commander Riker, and perhaps a few other she had chosen to tell, knew exactly who and what she was. And only they knew exactly who Spike and Willow were.

"Right shiny job you got here, luv." Spike said as he looked over the weapons systems.

"I am so jealous Buffy!" Willow exclaimed. "You get to work with Jordi LaForge and Commander Data! I'm stuck doing Watcher stuff with the Vulcan Slayers." Giles had recently determined that any planed with a mystical core like Earth, such as Vulcan or the Betazoid home world, had Slayers. He was now in the process of trying to establish relations with over a dozen different planets.

"I wonder if Data will let me look at his neural net." She wondered, "I might be able to determine how it works."

"Are you serious?" Asked Jordi, who had been listening in on their conversation, discreetly of course. "I don't mean to eavesdrop, but what makes you think you can re-produce Dr. Soong's work?"

"Ummm…" Willow looked at Buffy, silently asking if it was ok to tell him. Buffy gave a slight nod. She had told Jordi, Will, Diana, Worf and Data about her life one night over poker.

"Back in the 1990's I got the chance to study a couple highly advanced androids back in Sunnydale. Even got to work on one! Later, just after the Eugenics wars, I worked on Slayer genetics with the first Dr. Noonian Soong while he was incarcerated. I then studied with his descendant just before his first failed attempt at a neural net, you know the one that got him laughed out of the academic society."

Jordi was impressed, not just by her apparent qualifications, but by the fact that she said all that in one breath.  
"I'll talk to him about it later if you would like." Jordi offered.

"Thanks." Willow flashed him a bright smile. "Now, tell me about the modifications you made to the warp coils. How did you get the efficiency up to ninety-eight percent?" Buffy rolled her eyes.

"The techno-babble is making me go cross-eyed." she muttered softy in Spike's ear.

Spike flashed her a wicked grin and before he could make a lewd comment in reply, he felt his skin start to crawl.  
Willow abruptly stopped talking, and Buffy dropped his hand, both of them having felt something similar. In a second, she was over at her station. Reaching under for the weapon she always kept there while she was on duty, she felt her slender fingers wrap around the cold metal of the Slayer Scythe.

Willow threw her mind out, and reached for the nearest source of life energy. Pulling power from the White Dwarf star they were orbiting, she let it fill her.

"Captain, something big is coming." Her voice was hard and forceful as she warned him.  
Picard acted immediately, barking out orders. "Red alert," as the lights dimmed, he tapped his com-badge. "Lt. Worf to the Bridge."

"On my way."

Spike had dropped his trademark black duster to the floor, and pulled a short sword from the sheath that had been strapped to his back.

"Get back." Willow ordered softly as her hair turned pure white, and the moss green colour bled from her eyes, leaving nothing but total blackness behind.

No sooner had the crew member around her hurried back from the three warriors, did a white flash envelop the room.

"Oh Jean-Luc, my dear friend! I didn't even call ahead, yet here you are welcoming me!" A dark haired man in and admiral's uniform mockingly gushed from the captains chair, oblivious to everyone else. "I knew you cared!"

"Q, get off this bridge." Commander Riker ordered half-heartedly from beside him.

Suddenly, Q dropped his cheerful demeanour, and frowned. "I smell power. Lots of power." He snapped his fingers and appeared before Jean-Luc and the three champions who stood as though all this was the most natural thing to them in the universe.

"Vampire." he spat at Spike, "Your kind are suppose to be bound to that pathetic blue rock they call Earth." Buffy stepped in front of him, the Scythe between her and this 'Q' thing. "Things change." the venom dripping from her words.

"You are a Slayer, yet you don't kill this slime?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"For an all powerful being, I'm surprised you don't know them." The captain said with a laugh.  
"This one," Q disappeared with another snap with a flash, and re-appeared right in front of Willow, "I can't even sense this one's presence." He looked her up and down, and finally met her onyx gaze. "Why?" he demanded of her.

Willow smirked at him, but said nothing. Furious, he turned on his heel, and looked at Buffy and Spike once again. "And these two, their minds are closed to me."

He looked at Jean-Luc again. "What is this?"

"I'm standing right here you know." Buffy stated with irritation.

"Quiet, _mortal_." Q ordered, turning the last word into an insult. He didn't even have time to turn back to the captain when Buffy's fist hit his face, sending him clear across the bridge. Landing with a curse on the floor in front of the view screen, he sent a cold, hard glare at the blond and raised his hand to snap his fingers.

"Stay down." Willow's voice echoed unnaturally as she sent out a tendril of power with a simple gesture. Watching Q who now struggled to move, Spike strutted down over to crouch beside the helpless being. Resting the tip of his sword against Q's jugular, he looked back over at Willow. "You got him Red?" he questioned.

"He's not going anywhere."

Buffy looked over at her Captain, as with a sure voice told him, "We'll handle this."

With a gentile smile he replied, "Be my guest."  
With that, Willow and Buffy calmly walked over to stand by Spikes side careful not to block anything from view, both knowing the crew would want to watch this.

"I would like to request though, that we wait for Lt. Worf. Q has tormented him many times over the years, and I do believe he would very much enjoy this." There was no denying the sheer amusement in his voice.

Thankfully, they didn't have to wait much longer. The instant the doors had slid open, Worf practically ran over to the Captain.

"Sir, reporting as ordered. What's happening? Are we under attack?" His deep voice caught the attention of Q, who had been staring nervously at the sword pressing in on his some-how corporeal neck.

"Oh look, it's the _dog_! Come to gloat, have we?" he snarked. Hearing Q's grating voice, he turned and swiftly drew his phaser.

"Relax Worf." Buffy told him, never once taking her eyes of the captive before her. "We have him under control. The Captain just wanted you were here to see us put the smack down on this creep."

Buffy spun the Scythe in a complex move not even Data could have tracked if he had been there. Bringing the stake end down to rest on his heart, Buffy leaned forward to stare him down.

"Still don't get who we are yet?" She asked with an evil grin.

"I thought the Captain said you were 'all-knowing'? How could you not know who we are?" added Willow.

Refusing to be cowed, Q turned his furious gaze on the white haired woman who held him still. "Obviously, I don't. I did say I couldn't read you. Now tell me!"

"Watch how you talk to the lady, mate." Spike pressed the blade down harder to get his point across. The observers were shocked to see a trickle of blood slowly drip from the wound.

"We got off on the wrong foot." Buffy suddenly became a picture of girlish innocence, as she smiled down at the being pinned beneath her.

"I'm Buffy Summers, and this is my husband William the Bloody who is also known as Spike and my best friend Willow Rosenberg! Nice to meet you!"

Q went dead white when he realised the mistake he had made with these three. Trying to pull himself together, he managed to stutter out "THE Slayer… THE Red Witch… THE William?"

"In the flesh."

"I'm so sorry my dear lady!" The once proud Q was now stumbling to make his apologies to the blond slayer. "Had I know, I never would have bothered you or your ship!" Pleading, he looked to Buffy. "If you release me I'll leave, and never trouble you or yours again."

Buffy looked him up and down, and nodded curtly.

"Now get the _**FUCK**_ off my ship." Her order was in a low voice, quiet and deadly, filled with the promise of swift retributions should he cross them.

As one, the three released him, and backed away.

Not even bothering to stand up, Q snapped his fingers once, and was gone in a flash.

"Well, that was annoying."

"Wonder what he wanted any way?" Willow wondered as she released the magic back into the star she had borrowed it from.  
"Probably just wanted to harass the crew for his own twisted amusement." Captain Picard answered, watching her hair turn back to it's natural copper-red colour with fascination.

"Well, that'll learn 'em." Buffy quipped with good nature as she pulled a piece of black cloth from her pocket and wiped off her weapon. She studied her work with a critical eye for a moment before deciding she hadn't missed any of Q's "all powerful" taint. With a satisfied nod, she tucked the cloth back into her pocket before walking back to her station and retuning the scythe to its hiding place.

Lt. Worf followed her movement with his eyes as he tried to process exactly what he had witnessed. Thinking what had just happened was too amazing to be anything other than a dream, he turned his scowling face to his captain.

"Sir," he asked, "what exactly just happened?"

"I believe, Mr. Worf, we just found a group of people that the universe should fear." Quirking an eyebrow at Spike, he asked with a small smile, "wouldn't you agree Mr. Summers?"

Spike, who had been in the process of pulling his long duster on again looked up, and with a cocky grin that showed off more tooth than was necessary, he added "The Universe should be afraid, be very afraid."

With a collective shudder, the bridge crew found themselves in total agreement.  
_**-End-**_


	8. God0Kings, Rings and All Sorts of Lost T

Author: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)  
Title: God-Kings, Rings and all sorts of Lost Things.  
Series: Chosen not to Fade Away  
Rating: K. It's all horribly boring, I know…  
Summery: Even Old Ones can be forgetful.  
Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Stargate SG-1; I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes.  
A/N: Reviews are love people.

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Dr. Winifred Burkle, as the shell was once know, straightened a pencil that had been stabbed into the hastily-made bun; which held back the long brown and, in the opinion of the God-King Illyria, very unworthy hair for a being such as herself.

Two of the muck that plagued this world had dared to approach her and even had the audacity to speak to her. She held back her natural reaction to snap their limbs from their bodies and beat them into a violent and merciless death. But chose, instead, to follow the teachings of her fallen Guide Wesley and the Slayer Queen. Illyria, wearing the mask of Fred, stood at the observation window as the blond woman and the dark haired man treated her as they would a child while they explained the object before them.

"At first we believed the Gates to have been built by a race of parasitical creatures known as the Goa'uld." Daniel Jackson was rambling off an old speech he often gave to the ever expanding staff of the SGC and the Atlantis Expedition.

As though the "woman" to his left knew nothing before the President himself had recommended her.  
'To think that such vermin could have risen from the pools of blood shed by my hand is an insult to my victories.' She thought as she half-listened to the blond woman prattle on about mystic forces she had labeled science, as though she was of any real consequence to the immortal Demon.

The memory of the personality that was Fred would have laughed at what Dr. Carter was saying. Illyria allowed herself the indulgence of pride when she noted that Fred was far more intelligent than this woman, even if she had been little more than an insect. At least she had know where science and magic differed.

"The Gate itself was unearthed near Giza, Egypt in 1928," Daniel suddenly found himself cut off by an ethereal hollow voice. "I had forgotten where I had left the Chappa'ai."

Illyria reached up to tenderly caress the image she saw through the window, lost in memories of glorious battles fought among the stars, of planets whose waters she had turned crimson with blood and races that had worshiped at her feet.

So lost in her dream of seeing her empire once again, Illyria did not see the stunned expressions of her companions.

_**-End-**_


	9. Gods of Greater Beings

Author: gothfeary (a.k.a. Kat)  
Title: God of greater Beings  
Series: Chosen not to Fade Away  
Rating: K. It's all horribly boring, I know…  
Summery: In which we find out just how far the legand of Sunnydale has spread.  
Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Andromeda; I just borrowed them for my own evil purposes.  
A/N: OMG!!! An update! Reviews are love, so click on that link and make me feel pretty!!! LOL

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"So we're helping them why?" Beka Valentine asked her captain as they walked to the cargo bay.

"Because they need some place to safely make repairs to their hull." he said as though it was obvious.

"That and the fact they'll pay us with raw triennium for our help." Added Tyr Anasasi of the Kodiak Pride, ever the realist.

"Andromeda, are they here?" called out Dylan.

"The doors have just finished closing, sir." Responded the ship, her holographic image of a strikingly beautiful woman flickering slightly as the Nietzschean walked through it without hesitation. Rounding the corner, the three stood in front of the bay doors. Dylan Hunt waited for his two friends to draw their weapons, knowing they would never go before strangers unarmed.

"So, who are we meeting?" Beka asked, her voice full of false cheerfulness and her perky demeanour perfectly faked.  
Reaching over for the small panel that would manually open the door Dylan replied, "a group of about ten free human contractors." As the doors opened with a soft hiss, Tyr felt the need to clarify. "You mean mercenaries."

"No, he means free contractors," stated a short blond woman who stood at the head of the group. "We take all jobs, from transport to hired body guards." The words, sounding slightly odd from a strange accent, came from the platinum-haired man at her side. Tyr stopped dead in his tracks, the force lance he held dropping to the floor with a clatter.

Silence wrapped around the bay like a thick blanket, suffocating the questions the crew of the Andromeda found percolating in their brains at Tyr's actions.

Looking from the bone blades that jutted out of his forearm, back to the two who had spoken, he suddenly bowed his head and dropped to his knees in penitence.

"Alphas," he intoned solemnly, "please forgive me. I would never have questioned your motives, had I know your identities."

"Damn," cursed Buffy. "I knew we never should have let Sooung play with our DNA!" She looked over at her husband of thousands and thousands of years. "You and your dumb ideas!" she scolded, lightly smacking the back of Spikes' head. Beka and Dylan stood silent, slack-jawed at Tyrs' odd behaviour.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Dylan. Tyr dared to raise his head to look at the others who accompanied her.  
His voice was soft and full of reverent awe as he named each person.

"The Key," a pair of deep emerald eyes belonging to a woman in her early twenties with long brown hair nodded to him, shifting her laser pistol back into the holster hanging from the back of her bronze halter and in it's stead pulled a short sword from her belt that hung around her leather pants. Dawn stepped forward to stand beside Buffy and clasp her hand.

"The Fallen One, The Angel and The Destroyer." A trio of tall dark figures, two males and one female, all in traditional black leather Nietzschean style-clothing nodded together. Conner, Angel and Faith were by far the most seemingly threatning, at least in the oppinion of the unknowing. "The Watcher, The One Who Sees, The Red Witch and the Old One."

Willow smiled; her white dress shimmered slightly in the lights as she curtsied gently. Xander flipped the eye-patch he now wore simply in honour of the vengeance demon he left behind ages ago up, revealing two deep brown eyes and grinned. Giles and Illyria simply stood still, as if the scene playing out before them was a merely play that they had seen many times before.

"So the legends are true? The Alphas of the so-called greatest race, the Nietzschean race, Mother and Father to Drago Museveni, who ride the skies with their court for all eternity?" Dylan had heard the legends from Geharias Rhade long ago, but never believed truly them. He simply counted them as little more than fairy tales, stories to be a kin to the ancient myths of The Christ and The Buddha from Earth of old.

"Well, we don't exactly ride the skies in a chariot of fire." The Red Witch quipped, her green eyes dancing with merriment.

"Well, doll, with that hull breach I'm looking at," Harper finally found his voice as he stepped forward to inspect the damage, "I'm surprised you weren't a flaming ball of plasma!"

_**-END-**_


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